


honeymoon in italy

by belovedmuerto



Series: in a cabin in the woods [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domesticity, Fluff, Honeymoon, M/M, Married Fluff, no regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedmuerto/pseuds/belovedmuerto
Summary: Bucky takes Steve on the honeymoon they didn't get after their official marriage.





	honeymoon in italy

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another fluffy entry in the cabin in the woods 'verse. Because we all need all the fluff we can get.

[Steve]

Steve is peripherally aware of Bucky coming into their room, in his underwear, scrubbing a towel through his wet hair. He glances up, smiling at Bucky before he returns his attention to his book. 

He’s been reading more fiction, lately. The world is a mess and he keeps up with the news. He doesn’t need reality in his reading, too.

Bucky keeps saying “I told you so.” He smirks when he does it, giving Steve a hard time, and more often than not Steve finds that he has to kiss the smirk right off his _husband’s_ face.

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky says now, still scrubbing at his hair. He’s at the end of the bed.

Bucky is still waiting for Steve a few moments later, when he looks up from his book again. “Yeah?”

“Do my hair?”

Steve picks his bookmark up off the nightstand and puts his book down. “Do you have the stuff?”

Bucky nods, but he goes back to the bathroom to grab the comb and a hair tie, coming back without the towel. Steve has no doubt that he’d hung it up to dry-- Bucky is not the one with the habit of leaving wet towels on the floor.

He drops down to the floor at the end of the bed, leaning against it. The dogs almost instantaneously materialize from wherever in the house they’d all been to curl up around him. Daisy is more or less in his lap, even though she’s really too big for it. Bucky shifts and adjusts until they’re both comfortable, and the dog sighs happily.

Steve sits at the end of the bed behind Bucky, takes the hair tie and slips it around his wrist, and starts to comb out his hair.

Bucky wraps his hand around Steve’s ankle and sighs, content.

Steve takes his time combing out Bucky’s hair, because he knows Bucky loves it, is soothed by it. If he’s honest, he rather loves it himself, and he definitely finds it soothing, combing the tangles out, smoothing the hair, looking at the way it shines.

“You’re getting real long, Buck.”

“Hmm,” Bucky hums. 

“Want me to trim it this weekend?”

Bucky shrugs. “Maybe.”

“We can keep it long enough to braid still.”

Bucky’s shoulders rise, just a bit. Just enough that Steve knows Bucky doesn’t want to give this up, this little piece of intimacy between them. After a moment, he shrugs again and says, “Maybe so.”

“Maybe you could trim my hair, too. It’s getting awful long on top.” Steve had let Bucky give him a haircut a while back, and it had gone well. It looks a lot like how he’d worn it as a kid, longer on the top and shorter on the sides, but somehow more modern. Bucky had been muttering things about an undercut, but Steve’s pretty sure he hadn’t gone quite that far.

But what does he know? He likes it, though. It reminds him of being younger.

Steve turns to french braiding Bucky’s hair, and he concentrates on that.

At some point while he’s braiding, slow and steady so he doesn’t mess it up, Bucky asks him something, and he hums an affirmative in response, not really taking the question in. 

When he finally finishes, Steve wraps the elastic around the tail of Bucky’s braided hair, and drops the braid over his shoulder. Bucky leans his head back into Steve’s lap, smiling up at him, smirking a little, and Steve leans over to kiss him, upside down.

Bucky keeps smirking up at him, and doesn’t lift his head.

“What?” Steve asks, after a moment.

“I should ask you for stuff when you’re doing my hair more often.”

Steve gives him a suspicious look. “What did I agree to?”

Bucky’s smirk goes downright gleeful. “You’ll see.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Buck, c’mon!”

“I’ll tell you in a couple days.”

“Why a couple days?”

“Because I have to get a few things in place so you can’t back out before I tell you.”

Steve furrows his brow. “We’re not going on some sort of goodwill USO type tour, are we?”

Bucky laughs, getting to his feet and then leaning down to kiss Steve again. “No, nothing like that. God, Steve, that sounds awful why the fuck would I ask you to do something like that?”

Steve shrugs. “I dunno, to torture me?” he murmurs against Bucky’s lips. 

“I’m not that mean, jesus.”

Steve leans back a little. “Is it something good?”

Bucky nods. “Yep.”

Steve smiles at him. “Okay.”

Bucky straightens up. “Okay? That’s it?”

Steve smiles again. “If you say it’s a good thing, I trust you.”

That earns him a glare, and a pointed finger. “Fuck you Rogers, I’m not falling for this reverse psychology bullshit.”

Steve shrugs, and flops back on the bed, stretching out towards the nightstand and his book. He can’t quite reach it without wriggling his way a bit up the bed. He gets the book and looks back to Bucky, who’s still standing at the end of the bed, glaring at him. Bucky looks like he’s fighting hard not to blurt out what he’d asked Steve that very moment.

“I hate you,” Bucky mutters after a moment. 

“Love you too, Buck,” Steve replies. He goes back to reading.

He doesn’t need to tell Bucky that he’s barely taking in any of the words he’s looking at.

Eventually, and it is longer than he thought it would be, Bucky huffs and stalks out of the room.

Steve grins. Victory.

\----

Bucky comes back a little while later. He’s still glaring at Steve, but Steve can tell it’s not a serious thing. He’s just put out that Steve had called his bluff, and hasn’t given in to begging to know what he’d agreed to.

Steve is fairly desperate to know, but he’s also stubborn as hell and doesn’t want to give in. He wants to win, to wait Bucky out and pretend he’s being patient about it. It’s a bonus that it seems to be driving Bucky crazy.

And there’s also the fact that he really does trust Bucky’s assurance that it’s a good thing, whatever it is that he’d agreed to. He trusts Bucky with his life, why not with this?

Bucky pulls the covers back on his side of the bed and lays down, reaching over and turning the light on his side of the bed off.

“Do you want me to go out to the living room?” Steve asks. He’s not quite ready to turn in, not just yet. He’s enjoying his book. But Bucky sometimes has trouble falling asleep if there’s too much light in the room. He’d tried a face mask, once. For about three whole seconds. Neither of them had brought that up again, and Steve goes up to the comfy couch up in the studio, or out to the equally comfortable couch in the living room, when he’s up late drawing or reading of futzing around on the internet. Not always, but sometimes. Sometimes, Bucky wants him to stay, so he has the comfort of Steve’s presence in bed with him, even if it keeps him from falling asleep for a while.

“Nah, stay here,” Bucky replies. He turns on his side and shuts his eyes. Steve listens to him breathing while he reads.

It’s peaceful.

\----

Steve gets up at his normal time the next morning. He wakes up between six thirty and seven thirty most days, even without an alarm, even now that he’s mostly retired from the superhero life.

He doesn’t require a lot of sleep since the serum. It’s both frustrating, and a nice change from growing up, when he never seemed to get enough sleep because he was sick, or uncomfortable, or sick and uncomfortable. His back bothered him, his head bothered him, sounds would filter into his brain strange from being half deaf. There were issues. Now he seems to mostly sleep well, unless he sleeps terribly.

They both have nights and weeks and sometimes months where they don’t get enough sleep, usually because one or the other or both of them is having nightmares again, but those times are further between than they used to be. Steve has a lot to be grateful for.

Steve gets up, taking care of the normal morning stuff that he always does before his run. He goes on his run like normal. He remembers when the thought having a routine would be the death of him, but now he finds that he really craves it. He likes his routine. He likes their routine, and he’s pretty sure Bucky does too.

When he gets back, he turns on the coffee and feeds the dogs. He thinks about making pancakes. Bucky would like that, he loves pancakes. He drinks his coffee, and then takes a quick shower.

Bucky looks so comfortable, burrowed down in the bed, under the covers, when Steve comes out of the bathroom and into their room, that he decides to join him there for a bit, before getting started on his day. Bucky reaches out for him as he’s sliding into bed, pulling him close and pressing his face against Steve’s neck.

“I asked if you would go on vacation with me,” Bucky mumbles against Steve’s skin, after a few blissful moments where the only sound is that of their breathing, slowly falling into sync.

Steve lets that sink in for a minute, sliding his hands up and down Bucky’s back.

“I thought you were gonna wait to tell me what I was getting into?”

“I can’t decide where we should go,” Bucky mumbles. He sounds rather put out by that fact.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. Even to his own ears he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He’s fighting a grin. “Why do you think I’d try to get out of going on a vacation with you?”

“Everyone knows you hate fun things, Steve.”

Steve laughs. 

“Wanted to surprise you,” Bucky adds. “We never went on a honeymoon.”

“We spent most of a week in bed, though.”

Bucky snuggles closer, wriggling a bit in delight. “We did, yeah. Drank as much of that Asgardian mead as we could handle.”

Steve chuckles. “Drunk and fooling around all week. It was great.”

Bucky squeezes him. “Where should we go, Stevie? Anywhere you want.”

Steve thinks on that for a while, considering it seriously. “Maybe Italy? I haven’t been there since the war.”

Bucky is quiet for a bit. “Good food in Italy,” he says, considering. “Good wine. Lotsa art.”

It’s Steve’s turn to do a happy little wiggle. “Lots of art, yes.”

Bucky lifts his head and smiles at Steve. “Okay then, Italy. I’ll start looking at plane tickets and stuff. We’ll have to deal with the security stuff, I guess.”

Bucky’s long since been granted his freedom and has no restrictions on his travel, but it’s still not exactly easy for the former Winter Soldier to travel between countries. It’s usually easier if Bucky does it incognito, although it’s a pain in the ass to do.

“Mmm,” Steve says. “When do you wanna go?”

Bucky shrugs against him. “I dunno, give me a couple weeks to plan it?” 

“As long as you need, Buck. Want me to do anything?”

“Nope, I got it all. You just sit back and enjoy the ride, Stevie.”

Steve smiles up at the ceiling. “Just let me know when to start packing.”

\----

Later on, when he’s gone upstairs to do some work, Steve texts Natasha. ‘Buck is taking me on vacation to Italy.’ He ends the text with the little blushing emoji.

Natasha sends back a string of peach and eggplant emojis, and Steve laughs. She follows up with, “I’ll mention it to Pepper.”

Steve grins to himself.

\----

“Steven Grant Rogers!” Bucky hollers up the stairs, later that afternoon.

“Yes, dear?”

Bucky stomps up the stairs, glaring all the while. The effect is only slightly ruined by the dogs surrounding him. 

“You called Pepper!” he accuses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve replies, blinking at Bucky as innocently as he can manage.

“Then why did I just spend half an hour trying to talk Pepper out of lending us one of the Stark jets?!”

“Did you do it?”

“Fuck, no! Now I don’t have to buy plane tickets! Or go through security!”

“That’s great, Buck.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Bucky glares some more.

Steve shrugs. “I told Natasha we were going on vacation.”

“Ha!” Bucky points at him. “I KNEW IT.”

“You accused me of telling Pepper. I didn’t tell Pepper.”

“No, you told Natasha, which is even worse!”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“If she shows up in Italy I’m abandoning you to her.”

“Liar.”

Bucky points at him in an attempt at menacing one more time, and then stalks back downstairs. The dogs go with him, like usual.

Steve grins, and goes back to work.

\----

“We’re gonna leave on Friday,” Bucky says that night when they’re both settled in bed.

“Okay.” 

“Remind me in the morning to give Sandy a call about boarding the pups, and stopping by to feed the cats while we’re gone.”

“You want me to call her?”

“Nah,” Bucky replies. “I got it. You’re just supposed to go along with this and enjoy your vacation.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, because he’s doing his best to let Bucky have this, and not to interfere or try to take over, or do anything other than enjoy himself. it’s actually been a lot easier than he’d expected, at least a little bit because of how much Bucky seems to be enjoying it.

Steve has never been particularly gracious about being taken care of, but he’s getting better at it, now that he doesn’t need it as much. He sees the value in it that he never did when he was young and sick and angry all the time. He sees the benefit for himself, and for Bucky. And now he can return the favor, taking care of Bucky in the ways Bucky enjoys being take care of, as well.

\----

They drop the dogs off with the vet Friday morning. They’re all eager to see her, even though they’re anxious because they know this means they’re either going to the doctor, or being boarded for a while. 

The cats hadn’t appeared to care at all, of course. 

The jet is waiting for them at the little regional airport, all fueled up and ready to go. Steve has never actually been on one of the Stark jets, or any private jet at all, and he spends the first few minutes while they’re on board just looking around with wide eyes. It’s quietly luxurious. The flight attendant comes by with water for both of them, and lets them know they’ll be taking off shortly and they should be seated.

Bucky and Steve sit down, in seats facing each other. Bucky is a little anxious, Steve can see it. He’s always been a little anxious about flying. Steve leans forward and holds out his hand; Bucky takes it, leaning forward as well.

“Thanks for planning this, Buck,” Steve says quietly.

Bucky smiles. “Anything for you, babe.”

Steve makes a face, because Bucky only calls him babe when he’s fucking with him, and Bucky laughs. He’s a bit more at ease, though, which is all Steve wanted.

The flight goes smoothly, and they land at the airport in Rome. There’s a car waiting for them outside the airport, with a driver and everything.

“We could’ve gotten a cab,” Steve mutters, feeling a little like this is too much, after the plane. Bucky takes his hand and leads him to the car. 

“This is it, I promise,” he says. “After this we’re on our own until it’s time to head home.”

Steve nods, and gets into the car. He’s a little bit surprised that Natasha isn’t in there waiting for them.

The car takes them right into the heart of Rome, stopping near what turns out to be the piazza in front of the Pantheon. Steve looks at the walking map he’d bought online, and finds out the square is called the Piazza della Rotunda. Their hotel is right on the corner, and although it’s not at all what Steve is expecting, it’s really nice. It even includes breakfast every morning. Bucky gets them all checked in, quickly and efficiently (he speaks far better Italian than Steve does, although the front desk person doesn’t switch back to Italian from English until Bucky has demonstrated such), and someone grabs their luggage and leads them up to their room on the third floor.

They move around the room, moving around each other easily even in the new surroundings, getting things unpacked a bit and organized. The bed seems really comfortable, and the room is modern but cozy, somehow. 

It’s about mid-afternoon, but Steve finds he just wants to go to bed, despite how comfortable the plane had been, despite the nap he’d managed on the flight. 

Bucky gives him a long look when he sits down on the bed. “Nope. None of that, Stevie. We gotta get the most out of today or else we’ll spend the whole trip jet-lagged.”

“Ugh,” Steve replies, flopping back. “I know.”

Bucky goes around the bed and leans over so he can grab both of Steve’s hands, pulling him up to his feet by main force. “C’mon, Stevie. The Pantheon is right outside our door. Grab your sketchbook and a pencil.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve agrees. He gets his smaller sketchbook out, and a couple of pencils, and they head out to the piazza downstairs.

They spend about an hour and a half in the Pantheon, looking around, Steve sketching everything that catches his eye, not the least of which is Bucky himself, wandering around with naked awe on his face, taking pictures with his phone.

After that, they wander around for a while, looking at shop windows, discovering a gelato place that seems really popular and which they agree to visit after dinner in a while, and then head back to their hotel room to wash up before going to the restaurant downstairs, right outside the hotel for a nice, leisurely dinner.

It’s different in Italy than it is in America. Dinner is an event, and they relax into the slower pace of it pretty quickly, lingering over a couple of carafes of the house wine. After they finish, they walk hand in hand along the cobbled streets, back to that gelato place they’d found earlier. It’s as delicious as they’d both hoped.

They wander around for a bit, staying pretty close to the hotel now that it’s getting later. They’re both tired from the long day of travel, and ready to turn in pretty early.

The bed in their hotel room is a bit on the soft side, but they’re both asleep in moments.

\----

Steve sleeps later than he normally does, the next morning. It’s their first full day in Rome and it starts slowly, both of them waking up groggy and a bit jet-lagged. They shower separately (unfortunately the shower in their room just isn’t quite enough for two supersoldiers) and go up to the top floor of the hotel for breakfast. It’s a little weird by American standards, but there’s plenty of food and neither of them is particularly picky about food for many reasons, so they eat their fill and drink ridiculously amazing coffee—

“Think I could get an espresso machine at home?” Steve asks.

Bucky blinks at him over his (third) cappuccino. “Yes?”

“Where would we put it?”

Bucky shrugs. “I can put something together to keep it on. Might have to run a water line or something. I’ll look into it when we get home.”

Bucky adds, a few minutes later, “Also you’re an insane person Steven.”

Steve just smiles at him. He’s the one who got whisked off on a romantic Roman holiday, not the one who did all the planning. “So what’s on the menu for today?”

Bucky shrugs and sips his coffee.

“Liar.”

“We’re doing the Vatican museum today. We might walk down through the Forum if we can get in there still when we’re finished in the museum, but that’s pretty much all I’ve got planned.”

“Just one place? Do we need the whole day?”

Bucky levels him with a look. “Trust me, Stevie. You want the whole day.”

Bucky was absolutely right.

\--

[Bucky]

It’s an easy ten minute walk from their hotel to the Vatican, and they make the journey hand in hand, enjoying the morning sun and the people bustling around them. No one seems to notice or care that they’re Captain America and the Winter Soldier, or at least the dude who used to be the Winter Soldier.

Bucky could get used to that. Granted, it’s like that at home too, in Maryland, when they’re out and about in the small town they live near, but it’s not like that in New York, when they go up there. Or a lot of other places.

Bucky finds himself grateful for it, and eager to follow Steve through the Vatican Museum for the day. Steve has his sketchbook tucked under his arm, and Bucky has a second one stuck in the backpack he’s carrying. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to carry it through the museum, but he has no doubt he’ll be able to leave Steve in some room or another, drooling over whatever piece of art has caught his fancy to go back and get it. 

They’ve only been in Rome for a day, and he’s already feeling pretty smug and self-satisfied with his good idea. It was a very good idea.

Steve must notice his expression, because he bumps his shoulder into Bucky’s and says, “Thanks, Buck,” all soft and low, like he’s embarrassed at how happy he is.

Steve gets like that, sometimes. So happy he doesn't know what to do with it, and embarrassed by it. Like he still sometimes believes he’s not allowed to be as happy as humanly possible. He deserves that and Bucky will fight anyone who says otherwise, up to and including Steve himself.

Bucky decided shortly after Steve moved in with him that his life’s work is making Steve as happy has possible as often as possible. It’s a good mission, and it settles him, warms him from the inside out. If he’s honest with himself, it’s the mission he’d had since childhood, when he’d decided that Steve Rogers needed to stay alive so he could make the world better the way Bucky could so clearly see he was meant to.

They walk through St. Peter’s Square, taking in the awe-inspiring facade of the church, and the groups milling around, waiting to get inside.

Steve opens his sketchbook and starts sketching. Bucky stands at his side, taking everything in and letting Steve do his thing. Every so often he points out things that he knows will catch Steve’s eye. He takes a few photos on his phone, including one of Steve, head bent over the paper, pencil moving as fast as he can make it, the square coming to life on the page.

Bucky waits patiently while Steve draws, glancing over his shoulder every now and again, mostly just waiting for him to finish and people watching while he does. Occasionally he’ll make sure Steve doesn’t wander into any people, but Steve isn’t hurrying around much, too caught up in whatever it is he is seeing and drawing. The sun is getting higher in the sky, turning Steve’s hair golden in the light, and Bucky thinks his freckles will probably start coming out soon. 

He can’t wait for that. He loves Steve’s freckles.

Eventually, Steve comes to a stopping point-- Bucky doesn’t for a moment think he’s actually finished any of the several things he’d started-- and looks over at him. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he bumps his shoulder into Bucky’s again.

Bucky smiles back at him. “Let’s go in the church, then. You can drool over the Pieta, or something.”

“If we aren’t both immediately struck by lightning upon entering, anyway,” Steve says, deadpan.

Bucky snorts, but he doesn’t answer. He’s more or less given up on believing in any higher power. Other than Thor, anyway.

He’s here, and he’s got Steve, and he’s ridiculously, incandescently happy. 

They join the crowds inching their way into the basilica. Steve slips his hand into Bucky’s as they inch forward, just to double down on the whole struck by lightning dare, Bucky assumes. Once inside, the crowd thins out considerably, and Bucky lets go of Steve so he can grab his pencil and flip his sketchbook open again. 

For a little while, they just walk around, gaping at the art along with everyone else. 

Bucky finds himself fascinated by the morning light shining through the clerestory windows, and he understands how inspired people must have felt in the massive space. He understands the power the church was wielding, and the force of what they were trying to convey.

Steve of course gets caught up again in the art, the masterpieces just casually on display in little nooks and crannies, like having Baroque masters in the tiny side chapels was just an everyday thing when the basilica was built (which: it was).

It’s gorgeous and ridiculous.

They make their way through the church eventually, and start the walk around the building to head into the museum. Steve sees a little café across the street and they duck in to order espresso. Bucky’s not entirely sure, but he thinks Steve may be on a quest to try the espresso in every café he can find.

If it’s true, it’s going to be a lot of espresso. Rome has more coffee shops than New York, and not a one is a Starbucks.

After that, they head into the museum. There are crowds in the vestibule, waiting to get in, to buy tickets, to check their bags. Steve looks at the lines and grimaces, and Bucky tugs him over to the “skip the line” line, watching the grin that spreads over Steve’s face when he realizes they won’t have to wait to get in.

Bucky checks his backpack, and they go through security and head into the museum. The security folks start to confiscate Steve’s sketchbook and pencils, but Bucky pulls out the form he’d gotten with permission for Steve to draw while they’re in the museum. It had taken some doing, and a call to Pepper when he’d found that info on the website, but he’s glad he’d thought of it. Steve looks at him with awe dawning on his face, as the guards look over the form, look over Bucky and Steve, and then shrug and hand his sketchbook back to him. “Pencil only,” the one guard orders.

Steve nods, looking between Bucky and the guard. Bucky just shrugs at him.

He’d done his research.

Bucky grabs a map of the vast complex once they’re through security, glances over it quickly, and sticks it in his back pocket. He’ll remember where the snack stations are, and where the gift shop is so he can buy Natasha something that will be deeply blasphemous for him to give to her, if he can manage it, and that’s all he really needs. If Steve decides he wants to look for specific things, he’ll have it. Otherwise, they’ll just wander their way through the museum, see where they end up, and wing it. Bucky can steer Steve enough so that they’ll be close enough to food when they start getting hungry, no problem.

Especially if he ends up as deep in art mode as Bucky expects he’ll be.

Steve absolutely ends up so deep in his art trance he doesn’t even notice Bucky steering him to other parts of the building. He barely notices the _Sistine Chapel_ even though he furiously sketches the whole time they’re inside, amidst the crowd of tourist, the security guards keeping an eagle eye out for anyone attempting to snap pictures. 

Bucky definitely sneaks a photo of the ceiling, and he doesn’t get caught either, because he’s a goddamn professional and he is no match for some bored security guys.

He has poor luck finding a suitably blasphemous gift for Natasha in any of the gift shops, although he does spot a rosary that looks exactly like the one Steve’s Ma brought with her from Ireland that’s been lost to the sands of time. He doesn’t know if it’ll mean anything for him to get it for Steve but he buys it anyway.

Neither of them is much into religion these days, no matter how Catholic their parents tried to make them (although more Steve’s Ma than either of Bucky’s parents. Heathens the whole Barnes clan, according to more than one nun he could name), but Steve might appreciate a reminder of his mother. He has so few of them left.

He decides to go with ridiculously expensive for Natasha since blasphemy seems out of the question. 

Steve only eats when Bucky sits him down in the snack bar and physically replaces the pencil in his hand with a sandwich.

They spend the majority of the day there, and only leave when Bucky finally calls uncle and drags Steve out, almost by his ears. He keeps dragging until they end up in the Forum, where Steve settles back into his art fugue fully, with new scenery and ruins to draw.

Steve is mostly speechless for the rest of the day, even after they’ve finished in the museum and have wandered through the Forum for a while, and walked back to their hotel. Bucky leaves him in the room, still sketching furiously in his nearly-finished sketchbook, and he’s pretty sure that Steve doesn’t even notice him go. 

He fiddles with his phone when he’s in the piazza outside their hotel, looking for a local stationary or art supply store. Also a place to get a snack before they go to dinner. 

He finds both in short order: the latter in the form of a little grocer’s around the corner just off the piazza. It’s perfect, and he picks up some fruit, nuts, cheese and salami for them to snack on before dinner. Then he adds a bottle of wine and some chocolate bars because why not? 

Part one of his mission taken care off he walks a little further out and around and finds the stationary store where he buys a couple more sketchbooks and some pencils because Steve is going to run out of both real quick at the pace he’s been arting.

It’s only their first full day in the city. And he’s got plenty planned for them, both in the city as well as a couple of day trips. 

The walk back to their hotel is pleasant, and Bucky finds himself remarkably content. He doesn’t have many distinctive memories of Rome that he needs to ignore or try to process _while on his honeymoon_ , so he can just sit back and enjoy the city and the people around him. It’s amazing to be somewhere where he is completely anonymous, just another tourist in a city full of them, teeming with life.

It’s different than New York, and he thinks he likes it more than NY, no matter how he cannot ever utter such blasphemy around Steve, the most Brooklyn Brooklynite who ever came out of the borough. 

Even if he lives three states away now. You can take the boy out of Brooklyn, etc etc.

When he gets back to the hotel, Steve is still splayed out on the bed scratching away at the page. He looks up beiefly when Bucky comes into the room and grimaces.

“I’m almost outta paper, Buck. We’re gonna hafta find somewhere to get more.”

Bucky grind at him and holds up the bag with the sketchbooks and pencils.

“Way ahead of you, pal.”

Steve blinks at him for a moment, and then breaks into that one incandescent smile of his, the one that always puts Bucky in mind of warmth and sunshine and post-coital bliss.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re all right, Barnes?” he asks, climbing to his feet to wrap himself around Bucky.

Bucky doesn’t get a chance to reply.

Later, Steve says, “You got anything planned for us for tomorrow?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Nope, free day, we can do whatever.”

“Did you bring the laptop?”

Bucky nods and waves his hand towards his carry-on bag. Steve gets out of bed and puts on underwear and grans the laptop. He brings back the food Bucky’d picked up and sits back down.

Bucky trails his fingers up and down Steve’s back, and starts to think about dinner while Steve does some research.

An hour later they’re both dressed and Steve has planned out a rough itinerary of churches for them to visit the next day.

“That’s an awful lotta tempting god to smite us, Stevie,” he observes.

Steve shrugs. “Eh if god was gonna smite us he’d’a done it when we went to the Vatican. ‘Sides, this is where the art is.”

They head out to find somewhere to have dinner. Bucky doesn’t mention the JBF hair Steve is sporting. Then again, Steve probably knows because Bucky is well aware his own hair is just as messy and neither of them had bothered showering.

Oh well, it’s a vacation.

-

They sleep in as much as either of them ever does the next morning, and go for a jog through the old city before breakfast. 

Steve still has JBF hair. 

After eating, with the barista and waiter at the hotel discreetly goggling at them the whole time, Steve gathers up his sketchbooks, and Bucky puts a few thibgs (mostly more sketchbooks, a couple bottles of water, and some fruit) in his bag, they head out for the day.

Just outside the hotel, Steve stops and takes in the square. 

“I’m gonna have to draw this before we go,” he announces. 

Bucky agrees with him. It’s crowded with buildings all around, people milling about or sitting at the fountain, but the square and the Pantheon makes a striking sight. Bucky tries to get a photo with his phone, but it doesn’t really do it justice. Maybe Steve will be able to capture the way it feels. 

Before they start off towards the first church of the day, Steve leads him down a few streets—it figures he has the labyrinthine streets of the city memorized already— to a little cafe that’s bustling with customers even though it’s mid-morning. They step inside and order espressos and croissants and eat standing at the bar.

“This place is pretty famous,” Steve explains while he stuffs his face with chocolate croissant, sucking down his doppio espresso.

“I can see why,” Bucky says. It’s the best coffee they’ve had so far (granted, it’s only their second full day in the city).

They spend the whole day walking, into and out of churches all over the old city.

Somehow Bucky’s favorite, and he’s well aware how morbid this makes him because Steve teases him about it all afternoon, is the ossuary. There’s something peaceful about it, to him.

He sneaks a picture there as well, risking being smote yet again.

So far, so good.

They go a little further afield for dinner that night, and spend three hours munching their way through course after course while sitting on a small piazza watching tourists and Romans pass them by. 

They go back by way of the gelato shop. Steve orders three flavors, but Bucky sticks with the cinnamon he’d tried the first time, because it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“What’s on for tomorrow?” Steve asks as they meander back to the hotel.

Bucky shrugs. He wonders if they should try more of the Roman nightlife, but he’s not really excited about going to bars these days. Drinking doesn’t do much for him, and nothing for Steve. He’d rather snuggle down in their hotel room, hang out with his new(ish) husband for a while before going to bed and getting a decent night’s sleep.

They both have ridiculous stamina, but Bucky has found that he likes to get good sleep every night. It makes everything easier.

So maybe no real nightlife beyond long and leisurely dinners every night.

“Nothing specific for tomorrow. Day after that is a road trip though.”

Steve nods his agreement.

They’re near their hotel already, but Bucky isn’t quite ready to turn in, for all that he doesn’t want to go anywhere in particular. “Wanna keep walking a while?”

“Sure,” Steve agrees.

So they keep walking for a while longer, down random streets and into and out of little piazzas. It’s pleasant and as quiet as it ever gets in a city like Rome. They walk in their own little bubble of companionship, untouched by the other people, in their own little world.

At one point they end up at the Trevi fountain, and Steve tells him a little about the many fountains throughout the city, who designed them and how they were built and how they work.

Both of them toss coins over their shoulders to ensure they’ll return.

-

Their first day trip takes them to Tivoli, to visit the d’Este villa and its spectacular gardens. Steve is in hog heaven with his sketchbook for a solid few hours, and Bucky wanders all over while he draws, picks up a couple trinkets, takes a bunch of pictures on his phone.

Maybe he should start an Instagram account or something. 

After the finish up at the villa (Steve is a little put out because he wants to keep drawing), they get some lunch in town and then board a bus to head out to Hadrian’s villa, where Steve perks right back up again with new things to frantically put on the page.

They spend most of the afternoon there before going back to Tivoli for more food and then the train back to Rome.

-

The next two weeks are spent in much the same way. Bucky takes Steve places to see art or ruins or sculpture or history or whatever else he can think of, and Steve has paroxysms of joy over everything and more or less ignores Bucky for hours on end to draw everything he can get onto paper while they’re wherever they are. (He more than makes up for neglecting Bucky during the day most nights, however.)

Bucky has the time of his life watching Steve have the time of his life and overall it’s an amazing vacation.

But soon enough, their time is up and Bucky makes the call to let Pepper know they need the jet for their ride home. She (or more likely one of her terrifyingly efficient assistants) arranges everything and when they check out of their hotel the next morning there’s a car waiting for them just off the piazza.

They watch the city pass them by out the windows of the car as they head to the airport. Steve is holding his hand.

“I’ll miss it here,” Steve murmurs.

“I miss home,” Bucky replies.

“Me too. I miss the cats.”

Bucky chuckles. “I miss the dogs.”

“And the alpacas,” Steve adds. They’re both laughing now, and eager to get back to their home.

\----

A bunch of hours later, they land in the regional airport close to home, and climb into their truck.

“Food first,” Bucky decrees. “Then we’ll get the dogs and head home.”

Steve whines a little, but he doesn’t object. They’d eaten on the plane, but it wasn’t enough for either of them, as it was stocked for regular people and not super-soldiers, and besides neither of them had wanted to be so rude as to eat everything available. They stop at their favorite diner and inhale a big comforting meal of all their favorites from the menu. They’re recognized by several of the locals, including their waitress (she’s always their waitress), who greet them warmly but somehow manage not to delay them getting through their food and on their way. After that, they head over to Sandy’s to pick up the pups and head home. Sandy doesn’t keep them either, just reports that the pups have all been good but a bit mopey with missing them, and Bucky lets her know he’ll drop off a check for their board in a day or two. She tells him no worries, not because she doesn’t want their money, but probably because she knows Bucky always pays on time or early, and because she knows they’ve just been on a plane for a long time and are eager to get home.

The house is musty when they get there, but only a little bit since Sandy has been stopping by to feed the cats and take care of them. Steve goes through the house opening all the windows to air the cabin out, and then flops on the couch where he is immediately pounced on by both of the cats, who have missed him just as much as Steve has missed them.

The dogs all run around in joy, excited and happy to be home. They follow Bucky through the house as he takes their suitcases back to their room and dumps them out near the hamper.

Steve may be the one most likely to leave wet towels on the floor of the bathroom after ever. Single. Shower. But even Bucky isn’t up to starting laundry after spending all day traveling. So he dumps everything on the floor next to the hamper and checks the bed.

Turns out he had remembered to change their sheets before they left, so they’re still fresh. Thank god for small favors. 

He strips down to his boxers and goes to take a quick shower, to wash the day’s travels off of him.

Steve joins him in the shower after a few minutes. Once he’d moved in, Bucky had gone back to the bathroom, even though it was almost finished when Steve showed up, and made the shower larger. 

This way, they can both fit in it. It has two shower heads now, too.

It’s not so big that they can shower together without showering _together_ though. 

Neither of them is feeling particularly frisky after the long day, so though Steve washes his hair, scritching and massaging at his scalp, and Bucky washes Steve’s body, things don’t progress beyond the comfort of simple affectionate touch. 

They settle in bed side by side once showered. The dogs and cats get settled around them, and Bucky breathes and sigh of happiness, that they’re home and happy and together.

Steve looks over at him, a soft stupidly happy smile on his face. “Thanks, Buck. That was a great honeymoon.”

Bucky leans over and gives him a soft kiss. “It was. I’m glad you had a good time.”

“I did.”

“So you won’t object if we go on another vacation sometime?”

Steve smiles. “Well, likely on principle, but not strenuously.”

“Good enough, Stevie.” Bucky laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/BelovedMuerto), or [dreamwidth](https://belovedmuerto.dreamwidth.org), or [tumblr](http://www.belovedmuerto.tumblr.com) i guess.


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